Houston, we have a problem

I mean.

If "Being Bobby Brown" was supposed to help Whitney Houston's image - somebody's smokin' crack. And of course it can't be Whitney, right? 'Cause "crack is whack." But what's really whack is the show. Whitney shuffles her way through each episode, looking like she just woke up and sounding like she's half in the bag. If she wants to redeem herself in the public eye, she should fire the director and announce to the press that some crazy woman has been impersonating her. Then she should fire Bobby Brown and start fresh.

And speaking of BB, what makes this show doubly pathetic is that he runs around each week trying to explain to people who he is. He gets no recognition until he tells them he's Whitney Houston's husband. And this is the premise for good TV? Doesn't mean I won't tune in (because lately I've sold my soul to trash TV) but it just makes me sad.

Their poor little overweight daughter is obviously reaching out for something, besides a Big Mac. Handing her rolls of twenties to impulse-shop ain't the answer, Whit. Plus, therapy is going to cost her a lot more than that.

Quit talkin' about your bowel movements, put together one complete sentence, remind people what made you great; your talent, and your apparent joy in delivering great songs. Come back to the Five and Dime, Whitney Houston, Whitney Houston.